They must have expected a miracle that day. What must it have felt like to watch Jesus breathe His last? To have waited, anxiously for something, anything, to happen, for someone, anyone to intervene? In a vastly more tragic way, it would have been like reading a book and knowing, just knowing, the author surely wouldn't kill the main character - no matter how perilous, you just know he'll always pull through.
But this Author was different. He actually killed the main character.
And there they were, His disciples, in dismay, confused, shocked, scared. Here was this man for Whom they had given up all they had, their livelihoods, their families, their very lives as they knew them. They had thrown everything away to follow this Teacher, they had backed Him as best they knew how - as if He'd needed their backing.
And now they were alone. Sheep without a shepherd, left to hiding out in locked rooms, not knowing what to do next.
What must it have felt like?
Sure, it's easy on this side. We know what happened just a couple of days later. They didn't know.
They had nothing to do but wait and wonder.
I was challenged by a fellow student during my freshman year of college to live through Saturday. The uncertainty, the fear, the sorrow. Jesus was dead and the future was very unclear to these who gathered, the ones who had expected a miracle from the man they had watched perform them multiple times in the past three years.
Remember. Remember that they did not yet have the blessed assurance with which we live today.
Remember and praise - because we know. We know Whom we have believed - and our Redeemer lives.
1,000 Gifts (inspired by the lists here and here):
207. Redemptive grace found on two perpendicular beams.
208. A tiny, multi-colored piano we can play together.
209. A home to house our three greatest blessings.
210. "The Way" borrowed from the library - inspiration to travel the world (as if we needed it).
211. Ingredients for pelmeni - oh, how I love the Russian pasta.
212. True freedom.
My Life: My Morning
The Yin and Yang of my day - the joy of playing piano with this little one contrasted to the monotony of tackling this pile of laundry (which may or may not have been sitting in my living room the better part of the week).